


If I'm a tease and you're the one to please (I want more)

by Miele_Petite



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, Aziraphale's desk, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Fanart, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Smut, Top Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-19 07:30:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22174021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miele_Petite/pseuds/Miele_Petite
Summary: Just a quick bit of rough on Aziraphale's desk ;)(with accompanying sketch)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 42
Kudos: 402
Collections: Ixnael’s Recommendations





	If I'm a tease and you're the one to please (I want more)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anaeifly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anaeifly/gifts).



Aziraphale puts his head around the corner of the back room, as the bell above his shop door announces someone coming through it. He’s delighted to see it's not a customer, only Crowley, an uncalled-for swagger in his step, as per usual. 

"You're a tad early," the angel chirps, shelving a book in a spot to make it extremely difficult for any customer to locate it, then striding to his desk to make a note of it for later. His highly unique organizational system can trip up anyone, including himself from time to time, so it's best to record these things.

"Thought we might hang out a bit," the demon explains, pulling off his jacket and tossing it on the sofa, "before we head over to the restaurant. What was it again? Asian fusion? What does that even mean?"

The angel chuckles. "Surprisingly, very little. I'm shocked actually that wasn't one of yours, but I do hear the chef is very good. If a bit unpredictable."

He turns to make another note, and Crowley sidles up next to him. "Mmm," the demon says, leaning in closer. "You smell nice. What is that?"

Aziraphale sets down his pen and looks up. "Oh- it's some new preparation* my barber insisted on trying out on my hair this morning. I thought the lavender was a bit much really, and he didn't tell me it was some  _ Australian _ thing until it was too late, but it's starting to grow on me. Do you like it?"

The demon leans in, burying his nose in Aziraphale's hair, and slides his hands around his waist. "You smell delicious, angel. I could take you right here."

Aziraphale attempts to swat his hands away. "Crowley, don't be silly. We have our reservations in just a bit. There's no time for your misbehaviour right now."

"Is that a challenge?" the demon asks, stepping in closer.

"Crowley!" Aziraphale admonishes, then sighs as the demon's hands move to the small of his back, and his lips start laying kisses along his neck, his jawline.

Crowley leans back, holding his wrist up to their eye line, glances at his watch, and then back at Aziraphale. "Because I think I could take care of you and still get to dinner with a few minutes to spare."

"Crowley, be serious."

The demon circles him halfway, then steps up to him from behind. "Oh, I am serious," he whispers, reaching around to hold the angel against him. One hand he spreads across his heart, the other snakes down to his groin.

Aziraphale gasps and squirms a little, but not enough to break his grasp. He can feel Crowley's prodigious erection pressing into his backside and feels his own stir in response beneath the demon's hand. Steadying himself against his desk, he laces his fingers with Crowley's in the hand on his chest, attempting to pry it away, but the demon pulls it back. Crowley begins kissing the nape of his neck, and he closes his eyes with the pleasure of it.

"Really, Crowley, must you come over so amorous at the most inopportune moments?" he sighs.

"Tsk, tsk, angel. Are you saying my love is an inconvenience?"

Aziraphale groans as first lips, then teeth, brush his neck. "It is, rather. You've had all afternoon to come and pet me."

"But you said you were reading," Crowley grumbles, close to his ear, "Didn't want to disturb you."

Aziraphale chuckles, leans back into him. "Oh so you're fine to disturb me now then, are you?"

"Mmhmm," the demon hums. "Want you, angel," he whispers, leaning in to nip at Aziraphale's throat.

The angel, arousal swelling, blushes and juts his hips forward, pushing desperately where Crowley's hand is now cupping his testicles and is stroking his thumb intently along his cock through his trousers. He can feel the demon smiling smugly into his neck as he strains for the contact.

Crowley squeezes the angel's quickening erection gently. "Oh angel, it seems you might be feeling inconveniently amorous yourself."

"And you know I could place the blame for that entirely on you, as well. Would you stop teasing me, you wily serpent?" he says, trying to sound annoyed, but pressing now even harder against Crowley's hand. "Ohhhh," he groans then, "We really shouldn't, dear." 

Crowley grins. It's the same thing Aziraphale says about ordering dessert, sometimes. He always orders dessert. "Why ever not?" the demon replies.

"No time," Aziraphale chokes out.

"Nonsense," Crowley whispers roughly against his neck, "I can stop time, if you like." He unlaces his fingers from the angel's.

"Don't be ridiculous," Aziraphale scolds, but really wanting him now. He expects the demon to use that hand to snap, to stop things as he's said, but instead feels it slipping up under his waistcoat and deftly unhooking the left side of his braces. Suddenly, he realizes Crowley's not just playing at this.

"But Crowley," he whines, pretending he has some resolve left, "my windows face the street for heaven's sake! What if someone sees?"

Crowley chuckles. He'd miracled the windows as soon as he'd pulled up outside, knowing exactly why he'd gotten here early. The bookshop has looked dark and still to anyone outside ever since. Still, he loves trying to get a rise out of his angel. He unhooks the right side of Aziraphale's braces. 

"Then," he purrs, "They'll think that stuffy bookseller is finally getting the fucking he deserves."

"Oh Crowley," the angel keens, his knees going weak. He leans forward and grips his desk before he swoons and falls over. "Do it," he gasps.

"Working on it," Crowley assures him, unbuttoning the angel's trousers and working his braces out from under his waistcoat, and easing it all down past the angel's now shaking legs. He quickly undoes his belt and it clatters as he flings it haphazardly, the heavy snake head buckle striking the floorboards.

While the demon moves to unbutton his own trousers, Aziraphale takes a quick despondent look at his desk. He makes a mental inventory of all of the things there that stand to be wrecked by what's about to happen.  _ Oh if only I'd put that one away _ , he groans internally about a certain cherished text, but it's too late now, and if he picks it up and chucks it away, it might get just as damaged. He doesn't have time to lament over anything else though, because now Crowley is tugging at his underpants, bringing them down his hips and thighs to settle on the pile of his trousers. He feels, fleetingly, the demon's cock brush his arse as he comes in close, and he leans onto his desk to offer a better angle, beyond caring in the moment how terribly forward it probably looks. 

Crowley's hand slides down his back, over his waistcoat, and hitches up his shirttails. He groans at the glimpse of Aziraphale's plump arse before hurriedly slipping a finger inside him. His eyebrows raise. The angel is surprisingly already spread wide open, and slick.

"Oh, angel, what have you been up to today?" he asks.

"Reading?" Aziraphale squeaks out, weakly.

"What the fuck have you been reading?" Crowley swears, breathily, now teasing the angel from the inside.

"It might have been," Aziraphale says between gasps, "Something slightly naughty..."

"And you've been naughty as well, have you?" Crowley asks, in a tone of amused arousal. He slides in another finger and his thumb, and finds them both easily accommodated, with a flush of sweat to his face. 

Aziraphale had, admittedly, been experimenting with some equipment that had been suggested by a shop a few doors down from his own. Soho was awash in that sort of thing and no one, as far as the humans went anyway, had raised so much as an eyebrow at the exchange, but for some reason it felt strange talking to Crowley about it. And anyway, he would have found it quite difficult to communicate, what with the demon's fingers doing what they were now doing.

"Mmmm," the angel hums in agreement, but then whines as Crowley extracts his fingers. 

He doesn't feel the loss for long though because the demon is only too happy to dispense with unnecessary prep work this evening, aroused as he is, and so without preamble he lines up his cock and shoves it in. Aziraphale cries out, but pushes back to get more contact, and is rewarded with the pounding of Crowley's hips slamming into him. The demon's thrusting then comes so fast and hard that the trinkets on his desk shake, the roll-top itself threatening to lurch across the floor. 

Aziraphale cries out in pleasure again- this is what he's thought about all afternoon, and he wants to touch himself, to bring himself off while Crowley fucks him, but the demon has him pinned to the desk with a firm grip on both of his wrists, and he considers it might imperil so many of the things on the work surface if he were to use enough force to swing a hand free. So for now all he can do is pant and moan and enjoy Crowley's rather enthusiastic recreation of his fantasies of this afternoon while perusing that erotic poetry...

"Fuck...  _ angel _ !" Crowley groans behind him. "I love you... so fucking much!"

He slams into Azirphale then with such force that a cascade of reference books tumbles off the desk into the floor, sending up a cloud of dust. 

"Would you please-" Aziraphale gasps, "Mind the-"

Before he can finish, there's a crash as a lamp is jolted and tips over, giving way to gravity, and smashing against the window.

"Sorry," Crowley keens. He doesn't stop thrusting, but looses his grip on Aziraphale's wrists and moves his hands instead to the angel's hips, pulling him back into himself as he pounds away. He did have dinner reservations to get them to, after all, he couldn't very well just stop to miracle a lamp back together.

His hands freed, Aziraphale wastes no time in wrapping one of them around his own cock, which, though certainly already well-tended-to earlier today, was rock hard and crying out for friction. The combination of Crowley's furious thrusting and the thrill of implied exposure being so close to his window, though, have left him so sensitive he only manages a few uncoordinated strokes before he comes, without thinking, all over his desk and his carefully written notes.

"Shit!" the angel exclaims, before he can stop himself, though really the curse does sum up both his ecstasy at the orgasm, and his dismay at the wreck he's made of his poor desk.

With that, Crowley is right behind him, pulling the angel back onto his cock and burying it as deep as he can as he empties into Aziraphale, gritting his teeth. A moment later, they both stumble forward, lightheaded and off-balance, but also trapped in the trousers still bunched around their ankles, pitching into the desk. Off falls the matching lamp, fracturing with a musical tinkle into shards of ceramic on the floor.

Aziraphale braces himself against the desk, Crowley pressed into the curve of his back, hands still dug into his hips, as they both gulp for breath.

"Sorry," the demon chokes out, "For the mess."

"You should be," Aziraphale laughs, breathily. "Because you're cleaning it up."

"Fair enough," Crowley hums into the angel's hair before pulling himself away, and quickly pulling his pants and trousers back up. "But you'd better hurry up and get ready, angel. Look at the state of you, I can't take you to dinner looking like that. Tsk. You're going to make us late, as usual."

Aziraphale sighs. "Remind me again- why did I never smite you?"

*the hair product is Blonde Angel by Kevin Murphy and OMG that stuff really does smell good


End file.
